


A real catch

by errantknightess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dorkiness, Fishing, Fluff, Ignis and Gladio are there for a hot second, M/M, Pining, Vignette, which is a fancy way of saying there's no trace of plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/pseuds/errantknightess
Summary: Maybe fifteen minutes later, Noct finally gave up. He flicked the rod back where it came from and stepped off the jetty in a huff, footsteps thudding on the slick wood.Prompto hardly had time to feel relieved before Noct hopped on his chocobo and rode straight into the water.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 15
Kudos: 89





	A real catch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MathClassWarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/gifts).



> Twitter request for MathClassWarfare! The prompt was Vesperpool + wet

They said the human body was about seventy percent water. At that moment, Prompto would put his content closer to ninety-eight.

The rest was misery.

The shores of the Vesperpool were humid on the best of days, and today was a bad one. A relentless drizzle hung in the air since morning, making everything misty and moist, as if you were looking through a particularly nasty shower curtain. Every now and then, it came down harder in a bout of proper rain that drummed on the planks of the jetty and startled their chocobos grazing in the low ferns nearby. Prompto didn’t even bother running for cover anymore. His clothes and hair were already saturated with water to the limit.

His patience was at the limit, too.

“Still no bite?” he asked, keeping his voice down just in case. The last thing he needed was to scare off any fish that might have finally decided to show up.

Noct just shook his head. That was the most he’d moved in the last three hours. His hair drooped down, plastered flat against his forehead, but he never once reached up to fix it, clutching his fishing rod in a death grip like his life depended on it.

And yet, sopping wet and in the middle of this mundane pastime, somehow he still looked regal. It was hard not to stare when he stood there like that, with his shoulders squared, his jaw set, his eyebrows drawn tight as he focused on the murky depths.

Prompto made himself tear his eyes off and followed Noct’s gaze along the line that disappeared far off the shore. The bait bobbed on the waves, tugged lightly for one promising moment – and stilled again.

“Oh, come on.” Prompto’s shoulders slumped. “Any longer and _I’ll_ start growing gills here.”

He might actually need them if this weather kept up. And maybe then he’d have a better chance with Noct, because so far Noct only had eyes for the fish. Prompto was losing sorely to the scaly bastards, and they weren’t even _there_.

With a sigh, he trudged down the jetty to where Ignis and Gladio had settled down back when they all first came there.

The bare tree trunk they sat against gave measly shelter, barely enough to keep Gladio’s book from turning into paper pulp. Prompto plopped down next to them, instantly regretting it as the mushy earth caked his hands and butt. He shared a long-suffering glance with Ignis, pulled his knees to his chest and let his mind wander.

It never strayed far from the shore and the black figure standing there.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, Noct finally gave up. He flicked the rod back where it came from and stepped off the jetty in a huff, footsteps thudding on the slick wood.

Prompto hardly had time to feel relieved before Noct hopped on his chocobo and rode straight into the water.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gladio looked up at the splash, stopping with the page half turned.

“That island over there.” Noct waved his hand to the cluster of darker shapes on the foggy horizon. “Looks like the perfect place. Let’s move!”

Gladio shut his book with a groan that Prompto wholeheartedly agreed with.

Cold water lapped at the soles of his boots as they waded deeper in. His chocobo flapped its wings, clearly excited to swim. Prompto was far from it, but he pushed onward anyway, steering the bird to follow Noct across the stupid lake. Because there was no place he wouldn’t follow Noct.

It was a slow-going trip. Minutes passed, and the island still didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Prompto wondered how Noct could tell it’d be a good fishing spot – he could barely see it at all. Knowing their luck, maybe it wasn’t even land. Maybe it was some monster, lurking in the depth, laying low and luring them in—

“Hurry it up, Prompto!” Noct’s voice drifted from up ahead.

“Nah, I’m good here,” Prompto called back, lazily leaning back in the saddle.

Noct smirked – it was easy to _hear_ even all the way there. “Come on! Race you to the shore!”

Okay, so maybe the racecourse was the one place where he _wouldn’t_ follow – or rather, where he wouldn’t let Noct take the lead. The lake was no proper track, but it didn’t matter. Now it was a matter of pride.

“In your dreams, slowpoke! See you at the finish!”

Prompto clung to his chocobo’s neck, spurring the bird on as best as he could. Chocobos weren’t quite as fast in the water as they were on land. But he was a good jockey, and he knew how to handle them even in these unfavourable circumstances. All it took was some gentle encouragement and the bird picked up speed, kicking underneath the water with its strong legs.

It wasn’t long before they caught up.

Noct’s chocobo squawked happily at their sight, greeting its friend with enthusiastic flapping of wings. The two birds paddled slowly side by side, chittering and stretching their necks to run their beaks through each other’s feathers.

“Guess taking over is not an option,” Noct mused.

He didn’t sound particularly bummed out about it. Prompto couldn’t be, either.

“Guess not,” he sighed. “I’d never have the heart to separate these lovebirds.”

The happy couple beat their wings, as if appreciating the sentiment. Prompto sputtered at the water sprinkling into his face – not that it could drench him any more at this point.

“Hey, stop it!” Noct raised his arm to shield himself from the splashes. His voice was laced with laughter that rarely made it past his lips these days.

Prompto turned to look at him, committing to memory all of that moment: the crooked, fond grin, the bright eyes, the gentle slope of his hunched shoulders. Tiny droplets arced through the air all around, framing Noct like shiny shards of crystal.

It was a sight worth a thousand photos.

But for once, Prompto didn’t even think of pulling out his camera. He just sat there, struck. His chest twinged with a familiar, warm ache. Breath caught in his throat. The reins slipped from his limp hand.

It was that moment his chocobo chose to flutter its wings again.

Prompto fell back, thrown off balance by the sudden movement. The sky spun above him. He reached out, desperately trying to grab for something in the clear air. Somewhere out of his view, he heard Noct cry out, the warning mingled with his own startled yelp.

The next moment, his mouth was full of water.

The lake washed over him like a cold shadow. Prompto flailed, pushing up in panic until his head broke the surface. He gasped and coughed, struggling to keep afloat and regain his bearings. His chocobo was already ways ahead, paddling towards the shore as if nothing had happened, the traitor. Prompto bounced helplessly on the waves, blinking the water out of his eyes, when a familiar hand clenched on his shirt.

“I’ve got you.” Noct pulled him in by the arm, leaning down from the saddle. Prompto grabbed on gratefully, and together they managed to heave him up. Noct’s chocobo didn’t seem to mind, even as Prompto wiggled in front of Noct on the saddle that definitely wasn’t meant to fit two.

“You okay?” Noct asked. His hands snaked around Prompto’s waist to take the reins. Prompto stared down at them, his throat suddenly dry in spite of all the lake water he’d swallowed.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I’m fine. Sorry about that… But hey, at least you pulled _something_ out of this lake now.”

“Right.” Noct chuckled, a hot puff of breath right in his ear. “A real catch.”

If he hadn’t been soaked to the bone, Prompto was pretty sure he’d have combusted.

And if he shivered enough for Noct to notice as they made their way to the shore, ever so slowly – well, he wasn’t going to tell him that the main reason was the warm weight pressed over his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you'd like to leave me a prompt, check out the pinned tweet on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/Err_417) :D


End file.
